The Tutor
by RyokoMist
Summary: Nelson Nash is going to lose all sports privileges if he cant get his grades up& there's only one girl in all of Hill High who can help him. Question is: Can he keep his pained home life a secret from the prying and nurturing Max? More importantly, can he keep his growing feelings for her under wraps? And what will everyone else think about it if he can't? my first Nax fic oh my
1. Chapter 1

_I know: I've been out of practice for so long. And no, this new story is NOT going to deter me from The Bite: Afterlife _or _The Hunted Sequel: Unlimited Eternity. This is just something to help get me back in the swing of writing because I haven't even touched my own personal novels, and I honestly had lost my writing drive. My mind has been blocked so I figure, why not write about something different - something that could possibly inspire you. Yes, this is a Nax fic (Nelson/Max) - No, I do not particularly ship them since im a die hard TAX fan but ya know sometimes writers have to expand their horizons and do something outside of their comfort zone. This is gonna be short, more than likely only four chapters since I don't PLAN any real drama but my fingers have a mind of their own. Wait...that sounded pretty gross. Anyways, I'm going to spend the majority of tomorrow coming up with new ideas for The Bite and be checking your notifications this upcoming weekend because there WILL be an update: whether I like it or not. Anyways, I love you guys._

_And please excuse any punctuation or any other mistakes. I sorta kinda just did a fly by night on this._

* * *

_**THE TUTOR**_

**Say Yes**

He practically ran out of the front door, slamming it shut on the voice hollering at him. Worthless. Good for nothing. A debt. That was all his father saw him as. The teen couldn't believe that the old man actually thought he OWED him for his father doing his job: to raise a son. The teen gritted his teeth, jogging down the front steps and off the front lawn towards his car. To all of his "friends" at school it was the boy's baby; his everything. But in reality the kid didn't give two flying dicks about it. It was nothing but another payoff, another "insurance policy" from his dad. But he had to pretend – had to keep up the persona that everything was perfect, without blemish at all. He opened the car door, looked in the rearview mirror and practiced an artificial smile of wonder. Yep. He'd become real good at this. The gear was thrown into shift and without hesitation the anger was left behind…for now. But sooner or later he'd have to return to the Nash household…sooner or…later.

Life for Nelson Nash was, for a lack of a better word, complicated. It seemed impossible that someone so hot and talented like himself could ever have anything less than a 1950's television script of a life but appearances were not always as they seemed. "Stupid old man," he growled as he flew down the streets towards Hill High. The cell phone in the cup holder rang but he ignored it knowing it was only Blade calling again. They had got into an argument yesterday evening when Nelson couldn't make it over for a date. She had said she was done with his bum ass, tired of being thrown around in circles by him. Blade had sounded pretty convincing last night and Nelson had hoped that this time it was for real: the sex was great, and it always looked good to have a hot babe like herself on his arm but he knew: knew she only cared about what he made her look like. Nash knew that Blade was calling to apologize and invite him over after school to "talk" (which usually only meant stripping down and screwing the hell out of him) if he gave her a ride to school…so she could look good stepping out of his whip and be the envy of every other girl on campus. The super star jock clicked his teeth in annoyance. Her ass was walking like everyone else. He was done messing around with Blade – their relationship was starting to fall on the same level as McGinnis and Tan and Nash did NOT have the patience for a rollercoaster ride. There were enough ups and downs in his life. Was there no one who saw him for he was?

The car pulled into the parking lot speedily – and before the teen had a chance to shut off the ignition a crowd of groupies began to surround the sleek vehicle of the future. Nash took a deep breath and opened the car door with his infamous sneer wearing perfectly across his face, high fiving some of the team members and wrapping an arm around a cheerleader as she blushed and pretended to want him off of her…yet she leaned into him running her hand along his chest.

"By the way Nash," one of the team members, Allens, said, "Coach canceled practice tonight."

Shit. Now there was no reason for him to not go straight home after school. "Slaggit. Why would he do that? We've got a big game against NY High next week for State qualifications." The boys nodded in respect as the girls swooned. He always talked so big and important when it came to sports. If only they knew it was only an escape.

"I know man. But he spewed some shit about finals on Wednesday. Said if we don't get a decent grade then we cant play. So no practice all weekend."

Another teammate – Carter – chimed in insulted, "He wants us to _study_. What crap is that? Right man?"

All eyes fall on Nelson, expecting him to lead the rebellion like he always did. All of them were too idiotic to accept that Coach may have had a point; even Nelson perhaps was too blind to want to accept that. All he cared about was practice – knocking heads around to let off steam without blame. It wouldn't be seen as hostility, or a cry for help: but a guy taking the game seriously. Nelson high fived the guy and snarled, "Damn straight! Who needs to study? We need to win that State Championship trophy! Coach is dregged if he thinks I'm going to waste practice time studying."

"I don't know Nash," a voice from behind the group on the sidewalk added in coolly. "You've barely got enough brain cells as is – maybe you should build em up for cushion. Ya know, so you want be a complete idiot after high school."

Nash narrowed his eyes angrily at the guy he hated the most beside his father: Terry McGinnis, standing there acting all cool and tough with his hands stuffed into his pockets and giving the jock and taunting expression. Terry wanted a fight? He'd get it. Nelson unwraps his arm from the cheerleader and points a threatening finger at the reject. "You'd better watch yourself McGinnis, or I might have to stomp you back into the 20th century."

"Ooooo, I'm shaking in my boots Nelson."

The sports captain began to walk forward, glowering as his fist balled and McGinnis took the same course of action. But there was one thing that stopped him: the sensual voice of _her_ trailing towards them. "Knock it off dregs," said the brown beauty putting herself between both boys. "We've got better things to do, yes?" Maxine Gibson. The hottest geek, and one of the hottest girls, on campus. Her large brain complimented her body rather well as Nelson took a slight step back looking her up and down. She was wearing something different today – a short sleeve golden colored crop top exposing and showing off a perfectly flat and toned mid-drift, tan cargo pants with a dark brown belt around the loops to hold them up and gold and brown throwback men's high-top gym shoes. It looked so…retro, so early 1990's, so tomboyish…and still somehow so sexy. Her neon pink hair had grown out a little and she wore it in a thick boyish crop that held a lot of body up top before trailing down to barely nothing at the nape of her neck, even grew out some curly bangs that nearly covered her brows.

Max, in spite of her "geekery" as the others called it, was who Nash considered a friend. He had a soft spot for her, a spot that turned into mush every time he saw her. Only Max was a good enough reason not to pummel McGinnis right here where he stood and lay waste to the freak. "Tell your best friend to keep an eye on his back, Gibby," Nelson warned her. "You can't save him all the time."

"Lay off it Nash," Max retorted, jabbing a finger into his chest without the slightest care in the world. Other kids may have been intimidated by the popular boy but not her.

Terry scoffed, folding his arms into his chest as the secret Batman teased, "Looks like she's worried about your safety, Nash."

"More like she's trying to hold me back from destroying your precious face, McGinnis. But then," Nash stated coyly, pulling Max into his arms and leaning in for her lips, "I wouldn't mind her worrying about me. Hmmm Gibby?"

Gibson pulled back from him as he tried to lean closer, exclaiming loudly, "Ewww Nash! No way!" She opened her mouth, pointing her finger towards the back of her throat and pretended to puke before Terry grabbed the genius's belt and guided her back into the safety of his arms.

"Yeah Max. Gag much." Terry's arm looped itself across his best friend's shoulder as they strutted back towards the building as the morning bell clanged noisily and the school parking lot began to empty; even Nash decided to attend classes today. But it wasn't for the education – he didn't understand a single thing that was being taught anyway – it was to see her.

It was safe to say that over the past couple of years Nelson Nash had been growing rather fond of Max Gibson. There seemed to be no end to her wit and carefree resolution of life. Do what you want because you can; and if there are consequences then oh well: you live and you learn. That seemed to be the intelligent female's motto and take on this teenage existence they were burdened with. She was different: complex and yet so simple. There was one problem however. One thing kept him away from growing closer to her the way he wanted. Her pitiful excuse of a best friend. Max was always on Terry's hip, even far more than Dana Tan was and Nelson couldn't stand it because Terry refused to let him socialize with Max – it was like he was some kind of disease and Terry was the white blood cells meant to protect the babe's body from infection. Nash paused. Huh? He actually remembered some science? Shway. But he had to get her by herself. He had to really learn about her…maybe even-.

"NASH!" Coach hollered from the front steps. "GET YOUR BUTT OVER HERE NOW!" Great.

It was an ordinary Friday – or at least it was supposed to be. Maxine Gibson, class brain, pink haired bad ass, and bomb bodied femme was walking down the hall towards her Electronic Software Management class after having left her textbook in her and Chelsea Cunningham's locker; not like she was going to need it anyway. Gibson smirked. It was the last class before lunch and Max dashed towards it speedily as if getting there faster would help her get some grubbage into her stomach sooner. It had been a busy night and early morning for her and due to all the chaos she had to skip out on dinner AND breakfast.

Damn Terry McGinnis to the darkest halls of the Bat Cave. Every time something went haywire he called on her. What was it last night? Two words. Mad. Stan. She could feel her head swirling just at the thought of it. The warning bell screeched as some students ran at top speed, others lazing about without a care in the world: damn drop outs. But Max could see her door directly up ahead and slowed down knowing that she'd make it in time. Their teacher Mr. Hardy Quinzel was a tough guy to please and made it a thing to lock all tardy students out of class once the final bell rang. Sometimes it was only for about ten minutes – enough to make the average student miss enough information to fail a test or pop quiz – other times the door never opened back up at all. Gibson had never been late before; needless to say she may have been a wild thing on the streets but she took her education rather seriously. She wanted to have options – to be somebody, to be whoever SHE wanted to be. And the only way to achieve that was with success.

Max stopped outside of the door preparing to take a step forward for the class when something large bumped into her, knocking Gibson backwards with a cry of shock before a loud, "SHIT!" and buff arm encased in the Hill High sports jacket thrust out, wrapping around the girl's lower back and catching her.

He had been watching her for quite some time now; always monitoring the girl's movements – the things she did, the things she avoided and in all honesty he couldn't resist the temptation to touch her body one good time and feel the warmth of her flesh, the scent of her, to mingle with his own. Call it desperation if you will but….he couldn't resist.

"What the hell?!" Max demanded, head spinning before coming face to face with her assaulter slash savior.

"Sorry Gibby," he chirped, a strand of red hair falling over his perfect face, teeth glistening, face just inches from hers. Cocky bastard.

"Nelson, get off," Max huffed, flustered by how close their faces were and feeling strange about the way Nash was looking into her eyes, shoving him back as she stood up straight and dusted herself off, shaking her cropped hair wildly until it settled perfectly on her head, accenting her brown skin rather beautifully.

Nelson Nash – captain of pretty much every cool sport at Hamilton Hill, hottie, jock, and all around playboy smiled, holding his hands up in surrender with a mock grin. "Sorry Gibby," Nash repeated; his smile turning a bit more lusting as his dark eyes overlooked her body – that tiny waist, those wide hips and plump ass, the delicious mountains on her chest. "Wow Gibby, you look nice…even if the pants and shoes are for boys."

Max slouched her hips to the left – Nash smirked some more – and held up a finger, rotating it to match her attitude. "Yeah well, I make boy clothes look good baby. Now if you'll excuse me-."

"Actually Gibby-."

"Booooooooy!" Max threatened with a death stare.

"Max," Nelson corrected, leaning forward and placing his weight on the hand he had on the wall behind her. "I was wondering what you were doing tonight?"

Gibson's brows narrowed after her heart performed a spiral death drop. Was he – asking her out on a date? Max's heart pounded heavily in her stomach or wherever the hell it had fallen down to. Ooooooh no! "I'm going out with Terry."

"McGinnis the Menace?" Nash scoffed, insulted. "I mean what are you doing tonight that's actually meaningful?"

"Like I said, I'm hanging with Terry tonight."

"Well change of plans: I need a tutor."

A tutor? What was this strange feeling of disappointment? Naturally he would need a tutor: there was no way he could want anything more out of her, right? And yet the way he gazed at her sometimes somehow had her under the impression that he felt differently. Oh well, back to normal. "Psh, as if Nash!" Max exclaimed – walking around him towards the class door just as the bell rang. One foot was inside, one foot right on her perfect attendance record…until the jock had to screw it up.

"Why not?" Nelson demanded as he grabbed her wrist and yanked her back out to talk to him. He hated being ignored. Didn't she know who he was? Mother fucking Nelson Nash! Captain, State Champion, the sex god of this city. No one walked away from him, not unless they wanted him to chase them. Girls liked to be chased, and even though most of the time they came flocking to him, he found the ones you go after are the best…especially in the bed.

The classroom door closed, Mr. Quinzel giving Max as look of disappointment as she looked at him terrified before wheeling an angry gaze back at the Sports Captain. "God damnit Nelson! What the hell is your problem?!"

"Me? I need a tutor!"

"I said forget it! I know your track record. You can't stay focused, no amount of rearranging and adjusting the teaching method seems effective on you, your cell phone is a sin even for Satan himself, and when you're 'bored' aka horny, you decide to take it upon yourself to screw the tutor."

Nelson grinned innocently. "It's not that bad," he counters.

Max snatches her wrist from him and glares, counting on each finger. "Jessica, Britney, Samantha, Margot, even precious little Becky."

"Nothing happened with Becky."

"Trust me, something happened with Becky. Look Nelson," Max added, folding her arms across her chest, "I'm not going to risk it. I've got better things to do with my night than waste hours on someone who really doesn't want to learn and have to beat them off with a stick."

"Sounds rather uncomfortable."

"Being in your presence IS." Gibson turned to knock on the door, hoping that her brilliance and puppy pout would appeal to Mr. Quinzel's better nature. But Nelson grabbed her again – this time gentler, more timid as he looked into her eyes with the most pathetic and heart-wrenching gaze she'd ever seen. Only Matt could have that effect on her!

"Max…please. If I don't pass Logistics with at least a C then coach is kicking me off the team for the remainder of the year. He said I'm one hell of a player, but even players have a brain to use. He called me dumb." Max felt tempted to agree but decided to keep her lips shut. "Anyways," Nelson continued, "you know how much I love sports. I've got nothing without them. Please Max. You're the only person who can help me. I'm begging. You're one of my few true friends and I need you; you wouldn't abandon me now in my dire time of need – would you?" Oh yippy – a guilt trip. He was just as bad as Terry if not worse. Why was she surrounded by such selfish idiots who couldn't go piss without holding her hand? Max stood there, avoiding the gaze he consistently unleashed upon her until she sighed.

"Fine. But you come ready to actually LEARN something Nash or I will push you off my balcony."

"I swear," Nelson exclaimed cheerily, throwing his arms around Gibson in a strong embrace, pausing for only a brief moment to place his lips near enough to brush against her throat. He could feel her arms around him as well in the hug and groaned internally. Why did her touch have to feel so comforting? So right? Mr. Popular finally sets her down and playfully slides his palm downward towards her buttocks until Max's hand reaches back and stops him. "Can't promise I won't try to get in your pants though."

"NASH!"

Nelson licked his lips and winks. "They look like they have such nice things underneath them." And without another word the jock was off at the end of the hallway smiling to himself in excitement, leaving Maxine stranded…Quinzel never did reopen the door.

_To Be Continued…_


	2. Chapter 2

_hey guys, RyokoMist here. So I find this chapter horrible but ya know: its just so weird writing for Nax instead of my beloved TAX and I feel like im not getting into it - but this story was the Grand Prize for one of my readers soooo I hope she at least is pleased since im uncomfortable with it: but I must keep my word. Anyways, next update will more than likely be for The Bite. I have posted an update on my profile, so everybody feel free to read. here ya go_

* * *

_**THE TUTOR**_

**Second Thoughts**

"Slaggit Max! If you sigh again I swear I'm going to drown you in my diet fizz," Chelsea growled, pinching her close friend on the arm. "If you keep acting like that you're going to wrinkle prematurely." The gang had gathered together for lunch and Max was leaning against the table, her knuckles crunching into her chin, eyes staring off at the parking lot.

"Awww she's just pressed 'cause Quinzel locked her out of ESM the entire period and wouldn't give her notes on what we studied," Terry McGinnis, Batman and her best friend, bragged as he stood by their table – a bag lunch in his grip.

"Bastard," Max grumbled as McGinnis chuckled, thinking she meant the teacher. Terry slid into his seat next to Dana, kissing Tan on the cheek lovingly and Max made a mental note: 3 days. Dana was starting to forgive and take him back much sooner now after a break-up. She slapped herself mentally for even noticing something as imbecilic as that. It wasn't like she and Terry had a chance anyways. But she could guess that since Dana and Terry were back on fucking-er, "talking" terms-then their night out would be cancelled. She figured he would be too embarrassed to tell her no on his own so Gibson took a deep breath and initiated the letdown.

"Speaking of locked out, Terry, we're still on for our date tonight to see 'Locked' at the movies right? I need something to rid me of my failures as a nerd."

Terry blinked, pausing at first. He had to be careful with this. "We…planned that?"

This time it was Max to be shocked – genuinely however on this go round when her fist removed from her face and she gave him an odd look. "You actually FORGOT?"

"Ummmm."

"Terrence McGinnis we've been planning this night for over a week! You take me to the cinema, head to the VRROOM after, and then come back to my place for pizza. It's the only night you have off!"

Dana leaned into his arms and smiled sweetly, their gazes matching. "Well looks like he's spending it with me. Sorry Max," Tan added looking back to their African American counterpart. "You can have him tomorrow though."

Max sat up, irritated. "I don't want him tomorrow." Tan's nonchalant, entitled tone always irked Max to points beyond words but always wound up putting up with it anyway.

"But you cant have him tonight," Dana responded back a little snappier than usual.

"Whatever, it doesn't matter to me anyway."

Tan let go of Terry and leaned forward, crossing her arms as she gave Max a death stare, the air suddenly shifting to something a little more…dark. Even Chelsea stopped sipping on her fizz. "Well," McGinnis's girlfriend contradicted, "it seems like you do. What's your problem Max? You're always in cahoots with Terry anyway, what's one day to give him to someone else? You act like he's your boyfriend but lets face it honey: he's not. And as long as I'm here he'll never be."

Terry grabs Dana's shoulders, shooting a nervous gaze back and forth between the females. "Whoa whoa! There's enough Terry for everyone. Look, it's not like that babe – Max and I talk a lot on the phone but we never really get to hang out. It was just two friends hanging out. Right Max?" His ice blue eyes look to her for support – for her to defend and agree with him like she always did to maintain his relationship with Dana. She always had his back. This was no different, right?

But that look only pissed Max off even more as she slammed her hands on the table and stood with an irritable, "Fuck you Dana," before leaving and heading for the building…leaving her food behind which she hadn't even touched yet, too ticked off to continue sitting around in that atmosphere; yet in the midst of the emotional rampage, Max found herself unconsciously approaching the jock and cheerleader table: nothing but an arena for testosterone and `thirsty attention starved gold digging sluts. Most of the guys there were bigots whose only care in the world was making it to state and pounding between the legs of the ruffle skirts in their presence. Those type of people ran the school – an unspoken law traced the halls: Bow down or back off.

Normally Max's kind was ignored by the popular kids, however, recently Max was becoming a viable target for the jocks. First she was just the brain who did their homework for the right price, but eventually transformed into a new desirable piece of ass worth tapping. Who wouldn't want to? One of the core power players thrusts his thumb out to her in indication for his gathered teammates who snicker. He laid in wait, using his coordinating skills to time the move perfectly; and once Max was lined up his large palm swung forward and slapped her thick bottom. He guffawed as the others cheered him on. He expected the plays from his boys, the jealous eye rolls of the cheerleaders. What he hadn't expected though was a brown fist slamming full force into his jaw. The power behind the punch was enough to send him falling back out of his seat with a cry. Why in the hell didn't Terry want her help out on the darkened streets? A chorus of profanity exploded forth as one of the cheerleaders stood up and shoved Max back roughly. But Gibson backed down for no one. The modern day oracle slammed her palm into the cheerleader's face, pushing back the skirt as she flipped back onto the table.

The lunch area was in an uproar by then. The whole cheer squad was up out of their seats and Max prepared herself for the brawl to come – egging them on for the ass kicking they were about to get. Terry was crossing the lunch area by that time, his fists balled, ready to execute some justice. His eyes could see Max, and on her they were focused. Hold on, he thought. I'm on my way. Yet the situation dissolved itself before he could even get to his best friend's side. The mediator? Nelson Nash himself. The captain had his arms around Max, pulling her back against his chest as he smiled at the boy she'd clocked, holding up a spare hand on his chest to keep him back. "Alright boys, I think it's official: Max should sign up? Right?"

"VR that Nash! The bitch punched me!"

"You smacked her butt. Besides," Nelson added through narrowed brows, his gaze revealing something that caused his teammates and their booty calls to diminish the simmering hostility, "Gibby is mine. Touch her and I wont be happy."

Other than some murmured profanity the situation was resolved before security even arrived on the scene. Terry narrowed his brows. Nelson held onto Max tighter, taking her back into the building, whispering something in her ear before spotting McGinnis watching them from afar. The jock winked.

* * *

Before long the day had flown by and as time passed the more nervous Nash felt about his session with Max tonight. He liked her, and in all honesty wanted their time together to be far more than simply catching up on the curriculum; he wanted it to be something stronger, something more. What Nelson feared the most was his inability to maintain the cool and carefree air around Gibson the jock had practically mastered. It was one thing to be an asshole, player, and flirt at school around all his "friends" – but another to be completely alone with the object of his affections. Maybe this was a mistake.

He leaned against his car, brows furrowed in confliction as he debated what to do. The fight between her and the sports entirety at lunch was another problematic factor in this. It was obvious that the others were far from happy about the captain stepping in and saving Max; even though he was convinced he was saving them from the ultimate beat down they'd been doomed to suffer. Just from the look they'd given him it was clear to see that his loyalty was being questioned, and the last thing Nash needed was to lose the respect he'd fought so hard to earn. Damn Allens for smacking her ass; and damn Max for nearly breaking his jaw in retaliation.

Blade looked over to her on again, off again sex hunk with a curious gaze before sauntering over smoothly with a couple other cheerleaders and jocks by her side: the girls glaring at her from behind with imminent jealousy, the boys with undying lust. She stopped before Nelson and slanted her hips to the side sensually before flipping her white locks and smirking. "Hey Nash."

"Blade," he answered back coolly. Nelson figured he'd do best to play it cool. Without practice he had no reason not to head straight back home for the hell that was rising under the floor. But if he played his cards right he could maybe go back to her place: he'd be avoiding home…and getting a little something extra. Besides, Blade liked it rough.

"Christie, Jess, Allen, Mark, and I were thinking of getting a few of the guys together and heading to the VRROOM since practice is cancelled. You coming?"

Nelson paused. A full company out on the town? He really wasn't in the mood for that right now. Fucking her was tiresome debate as it was. "I, uhhhh," he started, rubbing his palm against his neck, "had other plans."

Blade raised an eyebrow. "Other plans? What else could be more important than going out with us?"

"It's just…I have homework…" What the hell kind of excuse was that?!

"We ALL have homework, Nash," Blade rolled her eyes mockingly as the others chuckled. "Besides, that's what the geeks are for."

Allens chimed in, "Yeah, get Gibson to do it. That's what we pay her for. I mean, that's gotta be the only reason you'd save her from an ass kicking right? She cant be our slave in the hospital." Allens guffawed and slapped hands with Mark, completely unaware of the danger he'd just put himself in.

Nelson growled low, rising against his car and taking a step forward with clenched knuckles. No one talked about Max like that. She was still his friend, regardless of whatever secretive feelings he may have had for her. But Blade placed a hand on his chest, noting his attitude suddenly shift. She looked him in the eyes and scowled. "What's your problem, Nash? I like Max too, but right now we're more important right? I mean, she's your friend and all, but you're not getting SOFT for her, are you?"

That immediately pulled him back to reality. The look on Blade's face made Nelson lean back against the car and pretend to be offended. "Of course not! She's cool and all but you guys are what's up!" The jock wrapped his arm around Blade's waist and pulled her in, pressing her body against his groin with a desiring glance. "Let's go. Nothing's more important than you." Oh God please let Max forgive him.

* * *

When nine o'clock hit Max had just hung up the phone with Terry and she was less than enthralled. She was still pretty pissed off about lunch, and even more ticked that the school decided it was appropriate to make note of the event in her record while the idiots who initiated the altercation in the first place got off scot-free! How could they do that? Was the school board so convinced that the world revolved around the success of the athletics department and the pep that the cheer squad brought? The standards were so out of line. And then that selfish, no good idiot McGinnis…She had held the phone to her ear, leaning against the doorway of her bedroom with a scowl. "You're making this out of a bigger deal than you need to."

"Am I really?" the deep voice had answered back over the sound of a jet's throttle being pushed hard in agitation. "You got in a fight with a jock. And Nelson suddenly pops up to rescue you from his team. I don't like the way that looks."

"Well at least he did something," Gibson hissed, slamming her back against the wall.

"I was on my way!"

"And where were you when I needed you at the table? I swear Terry it's like I'm only good to you when you need me: other than that I don't fucking exist."

"That's not fair Max and you know it."

"I expect to be treated like a brainless sex doll, or some nerd to be used, by everyone else at school. Not the person who is supposed to be my best friend."

Batman had paused for a while, looking at the building lights zoom by. "Maybe we need a break."

"A break?" Max repeated sarcastically.

"You're obviously going through some things – and you're pinning it on me. Maybe we should…spend some time apart. You know, until things cool down."

"Funny. That sounds like something Dana would say." He didn't answer her and Max's heart dropped a little. That explained everything. "Right. But of course the puppeteer controls the puppet."

"Don't do that Maxine."

"You know what Terry? It's fine. We can't take a break from something that was never united to begin with, right? You do you, and I'll do me."

"Maaaax…"

"Have a good life," Gibson concluded, removing the phone from her ear and ending the call with a heavy sigh. Some time apart? Some time to let things cool down? Oh whatever. He could go skydiving off the tallest building in downtown Gotham without his precious little batwings for all she cared…she was done with Terry. Over him. She was sick of all the crap. For so long Max put up with the lies and the late nights and the secrets in hope that it would bring them closer together but all it seemed to do was be an emotional burden on her and drive them further apart. Terry was a hard ass – stubborn, just like she was; but in this case it didn't make things any easier between them. How long had she wished for Terry to trust her? How long had she put herself into a painful emotional state under the false pretense that she could ever someday be happy with him? Far damn too many a night! There was only so much she could do; only so much acting she could conjure up.

And then there was Nelson. She didn't know what they were these past few months but from the way they carried their little witty banter she assumed that friends was the title that belonged to them. Nelson hated Terry and vice versa and could be a total jerk but with Chelsea, Dana, and herself he'd always been pretty shway. Recently that shwayness had turned into something a little…more defined. He seemed to be more concerned with her and to be honest Max could feel herself feeling things in response. Things that she thought would only always belong to Terry. Never had the brilliant teen been so afraid to be wrong.

For Nelson it was the same: he'd started noticing her a bit more than normal when she and McGinnis had begun hanging out a lot more often. How could he overlook a pretty dame when she was constantly surrounded by the pathetic freak he hated? What had started as a simple "nighter attempter" found itself developing into a sensation a bit more powerful than the standard erection. Something about Maxine Gibson flattered, confused, and appealed to him. There was a blatant difference between her and the other girls their age: she was pretty, smart, funny, but also incredibly tough, compassionate, and loyal. Loyalty for the kind of girls he knew solely depended on how long your victory lasted, and how fat the wallet was. But Max? Her personality never faltered…and he liked that; the consistency.

Max looked at the clock again and growled. Nelson was supposed to be at her place over four hours ago. And yet here she was leaning against the kitchen counter by herself. She didn't know whether she more pissed at the fact that he blew her off, or that she had went through a lot to tidy up the place for when he arrived. Gibson looked over at the candle that was lit a few inches away and after an exclamation of weariness blew it out before grabbing her wallet and keys off the living room table and storming out of the apartment with a slam of the door. She hadn't really eaten anything the majority of the day and had convinced herself of waiting for Nash before grabbing any food but he obviously wasn't coming and the girl would be damned before wasting a perfectly good night. Boys were pricks. She'd learned that much from her father.

No. She wasn't going to worry about pleasing others anymore. She was going to enjoy herself! Screw Nelson, fuck Terry, rape the entire athletic department in the ass with a spiked dildo.

Max got on the train heading downtown, ignoring the incoming phone call in her pocket from Terry and focusing on the fun she was going to have tonight. Max always liked the train, ever since she was a little girl. She would imagine hopping aboard and it just taking her someplace far away from everything: from the bullying, from the screams of her parents' fighting…everything. Of course it never did. It was a fairytale, yes, but sometimes…sometimes she still hoped.

By the time she'd arrived to the VRROOM all of the disappointments of the day had been erased from memory. Gibson cashed in her ticket for unlimited play and immediately began hitting her favorite games to burn off steam. She was a regular at the arcade, and respected amongst the other players for her game knowledge and ability to maintain her winning streak. Gibson was one of the undefeated of the VRROOM, and because of it she received certain privileges that other players would kill for: first in line for new game releases, free drinks, and half off pizza…and it had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that she was the hottest gamer girl in the building. Nothing at all.

"Hey Max," said a lisp-y voice when the girl had dismounted from the large motorcycle for Turbo Bikes. Max looked down to see a skinny, nerdy employee who monitored the fairness of game play. He was nothing against the bullies however, so Max usually had to step in.

"What's up, Sheldon?" Max asked, jumping down from the platform and placing her hands on her hips. She'd been in the building for a couple hours.

Sheldon gulped, noting her new outfit before shaking his head and adjusting his foggy glasses. By Neptune's triton on "Arc of the Sea Wars" she was hot. "Your table is ready."

"Now that's what I'm talking about!" Max exclaimed, rubbing his head and jogging to the table as he sighed lovingly behind her. Finally! Food! Max Gibson slid into her usual booth and inhaled the smoky fumes of the hamburger, stuffed crust pizza in front of her. But the girl barely had time to take a bite when she heard the loud sound of fists pounding on the table a couple of booths down from her. Max looked up, the slice just inches from her mouth when those brown eyes of hers widened in disbelief and she dropped the slice back on the table. Down from her was a booth stuffed with Hill High jocks, and at the end of the table with Blade leaning into his jacket, was none other than Nelson Nash. He was laughing at something one of the cheerleaders said and Gibson felt her lungs stop before becoming engulfed in the flames of rage.

The young prominent gamer girl slid out of her booth and approached, passing by Sheldon on the way. "Get my pizza to go, Sheldon," she growled to him before turning the slight bend and standing before the group. Nelson was too busy sucking on Blade's neck to notice, but Max was going to change that. "You DREG!" How dare he waste her time like that? How dare he just leave her without any kind of explanation? She had been sitting up in her apartment for hours waiting on him and here his happy ass was eating pizza with team members like it was the weekend! Max could have been studying for those four hours! Or hell, did some hacking of some sort. She hated being held on the short end of the rope and used. HATED IT! Her parents did it whenever they were trying to get back at each other before AND after the divorce, her sister who was never around did it to her. And naturally good ole Bat brain made it into a religion. Max couldn't stand it.

Nelson turned with the attention of the rest of the table and inhaled sharply in surprise. "Max?!" he asked, horrified, arm falling from Blade's shoulder.

"Really Nash? Really?!" Max growled through narrowed burning eyes of anger. "You didn't even have the decency to call me? Just not show up so you get some ass?" Her eyes flitted over to Blade. "No offense, girl." Blade shrugged it off like it was nothing. "You're a disgusting, no good, hot headed, ignorant, liar!

"Gibby," Nelson started before shutting up. He didn't even have a good lie for this.

Max held up her hand, cutting off whatever story he was probably still trying to come up with. "You're an asshole, Nash." And with that the pink haired rebel turned, grabbed her now boxed pizza, and took off through the front doors.

"M-Max wait!" Nelson called out, reaching his arm for her back and slipping out of the booth despite the protests of his friends. By the time Nelson had squeezed through the gamer crowd and broke through the doors racing after her, she was gone. Damn! That girl needed to go out for track or something! Nash panted heavily, brows up in worry as he looked all around him on the street. He'd never seen her that pissed before: maybe with McGinnis, sure, but never with him! The thought of Max being so upset with him that it could cause distance between the two of them made the captain tug at his red hair and bury his face into his palm. With a growl of agitation Nash turned and kicked over a metallic garbage can before groaning. What the hell had he done?

And Max? She was the farthest from happy. How could he be such a…a…jerk? He completely blew her off to eat pizza. How big of an idiot was she to think that he would really need her? It was just an excuse. Max didn't matter to him. To anyone! Max gritted her teeth and headed for the subway. Her cell rang again in her pocket but she once again ignored it. No more. She had yanked around like an idiot enough for one day.

* * *

The next day Nelson found himself sitting on the hood of his car in the parking lot – early, or at least earlier than he or any of the rest of the popular crowd would have ever arrived. He wanted to make sure that he caught up with her; because he knew that if the boy didn't try to fix this now then it might never get fixed. Nash didn't get home until well after midnight: thankfully his old man was passed out drunk so he was able to actually get in the bed. But it took hours for him to go to sleep – and when the captain finally did…the dreams made him wish that he'd simply stayed awake all night. There were light bags under Nelson's eyes: the weariness was excruciating but Nash simply couldn't allow himself to rest, not until he made things right…or attempted.

He sighed and looked around some more as kids started to file onto the premises and enter the building; it's not like it would be hard to spot a black girl with neon pink hair but he knew Max had a way to avoid being seen. His shoulder ached and the young athlete touched it delicately with a hiss of pain, pretty sure the bruise beneath it was just as ugly as it felt. Getting hit on was something the teen usually was accustomed to but it seemed like the possibility of his crush being pissed off at him made the pain much more noticeable than normal. Why did she have to have this kind of hold on him? Why couldn't she just be a sexy slit that he didn't care about like the others? Her uniqueness beckoned him – seduced him…and he couldn't resist it.

And then…he saw her, wearing the same outfit as so many kids did these days, approaching from the right. Their eyes met briefly before Gibson shook her head lightly in irritation and clutched the books in her grasp to her large chest, closing her eyes as she nearly marched right past the idiot. "Max! Come on," Nelson pleaded, raising up from the hood and grabbing her arm.

"Leave me alone Nash, I don't have anything to say to you," Max countered with an icy cold stare as she yanked her arm back meaninglessly.

"Please, you have to hear me out," the jock insists, pulling her closer as she struggled to worm away. "It wasn't like that. I swear it wasn't."

"Not like that?" Max repeated in disbelief, wheeling around to face the boy as he immediately fell back against the hood and jabbed a finger into his chest. "Not like that? You played me for a fool – and I was one to believe you! 'Max I need you! Max don't abandon me! Sports are my life!' Obviously, you inconsiderate dreg! Some friend you turned out to be. You're even worse than McGinnis and I don't need you."

The words Nash had so feared to hear. The anger the girl held was far greater than he originally thought. Apparently something had already put Max in a bad mood and his actions only made it worse. But he couldn't lose her…not now. "Max, please listen to me!"

"Why should I?" the genius questioned. "Why should I let you waste anymore of my time?"

Nelson looked into her eyes, trying to understand, trying to find the answer she wanted to hear through them but failing. He released his hold from her and sighed, reaching up to run a hand through his ginger hair before wincing out in pain and clutching his wounded shoulder. Concern flitted through her eyes as the brainiac extended her hand for him. "It's nothing…" Nelson mentioned in an attempt to pull away.

But Max was stubborn and had a history of finding out what she wanted to know. "Doesn't look like nothing." Her fingers lightly touched the shoulder and the girl watched as the jock flinched a little. Max set her books down on the car beside him, moving closer to his body and lifting the jacket and shirt collar beneath to gain a better view. Nelson held his breath as the beauty's body was fully pressed against him now, shivering slightly at the cushion of her breasts against his chest, the scent of her clean and fresh and perfumed skin soothing him in places seen and unseen as his eyes rolled lightly…her lips so close to his neck, it took everything the player had not to turn his head slightly and capture her mouth with his own. Gibson stood on her tip toes and looked closely, gasping in a whisper at the large black and blue abscess that had flooded his shoulder. "Oh Nash…is this why you didn't call? Did you think I would find this out? What happened?"

"Hmph…nothing. Just a disagreement with my old man."

Max shook her head in awe. "That's more than a disagreement Nash." Her hands pulled away from the shirt and instead wrapped softly around the boy's neck as Nelson raised one leg up, allowing Gibson to slide more comfortably between him. Nash hung an arm around her waist also in an embrace – noticing the glare coming from McGinnis as the future Batman stood across from them leaning against the light post wearing an inconceivable scowl and folded arms. So McGinnis the Menace was angry? Yay for Nash.

"I was an idiot for not showing up Gibby. I just…felt the pressure ya know? I know I'll never peg this learning stuff down and-."

"Don't be a twip, Nash!" Max declared, pulling back enough to look at him in disapproval. "The fact that you asked for help proves that you can learn anything. I'm the one who should be apologizing for being such a bitch. I overreacted."

Nelson tilted his head to side and lowered his lids. "So does that mean: we can try again?"

The way he asked that made Max's heart explode into a gallop and the girl pulled out of his hold quickly in hopes he didn't feel the nervous flutter in her chest. Gibson grabbed her books as the rest of the school crowd arrived on campus and once again squeezed the literature tight to her bosom with a blush. "We can. But next time," the brain added with a point of the finger, "you tell me if you're not showing up."

Nelson smiled. "Deal." The bell rung and he pushed himself off the car, sliding his backpack over his good shoulder as Max stood there waiting for him, looking down while he grinned widely at her. "Sooooo…" Nelson began as the two walked towards the front doors – past McGinnis, past his "friends" - , "should I bring the condoms tonight, orrrrr-." Max slapped him on his bad shoulder. "Shit Max! That hurt!"

The popular kids exchanged glances as Blade folded her arms and scowled angrily after them. Terry looked on with a tight frown, even as Dana came and stood by him, running her hand along his wide chest and trying to get his attention. This did not sit well.

_To Be Continued…_


	3. Chapter 3

_Hey all. Here is another chapter update. I think it sucks (sorry my grand prize winner, I hope you at least like it! -_- I try to be a woman of my word even when its writing out of my element. lol ) Anyways, i'll be trying to update for The Hunted Sequel and The Bite next time. Not sure when though. Also, as I've stated before, if you are a guest and leave me a question to my stories, I will start addressing/answering them on my profile and in the next chapter. So to you guest who asked me a question in the last chapter, here are your answers:_

___What my usual readers know is that everything I do has a purpose: the Dana bashing you spoke of, seems bad initially, but since Max and Dana are "friends" as you like to state, Dana will be coming back to apologize. I know theyre friends, and the argument was meant to be a moment of stress between the two females. You said I made Dana the bad guy in the beginning and the end, but its not the end of the story. Anything can happen between she and Max within the next few chapters - perhaps you should be a little patient to wait and see what I have planned next. And as for the Terry-pinning Max has: I have a reason for that. Max is learning that she and Terry can't be together, and now that she's done with him (in a romantic sense at least) it'll help her realize all the good stuff she's been missing out on while she was busy PINNING over him - and one of those things would be noticing how Nash really feels about her and how she feels about him. It's a little something I like to call my "Comparison Theory". I want people to understand. I don't have anything against Dana. She annoys me sometimes, but she and Max have been pretty good friends throughout the series. But no friendship is perfect; and even the best of friends can have nasty fights. That's what being a teenager is all about - and im sure the fact that one of their guy best friends and the other's boyfriend is Batman and has to keep it a secret would naturally make things all the more difficult. So, thanks for your review, I mean no disrespect, and if you have any other questions I'll be glad to answer them._

___alright back to the story_

* * *

_**THE TUTOR**_

**Common**

He pulled in front of her apartment building, looking up at it through the windshield hopefully. It was true he needed a tutor, but initially when the jock asked the intelligent friend what she had planned for the night yesterday morning, it was his intention to ask her out for pizza or something lame like that. He'd finally mustered up the courage to ask her out – even if it was just casually – alone: without Blade, or Dana, or Cunningham. Just them. Yet hearing that she was going out with McGinnis enraged Nash probably a lot more than it should have. He had reason to believe that Max more than likely had a crush on McGinnis; but he knew for a fact that despite infrequency with Dana, Terry in fact had feelings for Max. And that was competition – and Nash hated competition. All he wanted was to get to know her; to see if she was as great as he imagined her to be; and he'd be damned to let McGinnis the Menace interfere.

Nash sighed nervously as his heartbeat picked up in a nauseatingly nervous manner. "Slag it Nash," he whispered to self-consciously, looking himself over in the rearview mirror. "You can't turn back now…" Nelson placed a hand on the door handle and pulled as it swung open and got out. The teen glanced up at the building again and paused – wavering the options. But after a mental punch in the gut he shoved his hands into the sports jacket and headed for the entrance to the apartment building. The elevator seemed to take forever as Nelson looked at the crumpled paper in his hand with her apartment number on it, fidgeting as a couple stepped out and he stepped in. All the while that the elevator ascended he paced, glancing at the lighting up numbers in agitation before shaking his head. What the hell was he doing? He couldn't go through this. When the elevator stopped, he would just go back downstairs and go home or something. Tell Max he….caught the flu? Shit! That couldn't possibly work!

The doors automatically opened and her fragrance, though faded, softly sifted into his nostrils. The tension floated away and was replaced with longing desire. That was all the incentive he needed to make it through this.

Gibson had just sat down on the couch as the doorbell rang and she stiffened in anticipation. Oh God he was here. He actually came. Max shook her head and stood, walking to the door while tugging on her black t-shirt and then jean shorts and reminding herself that there was no reason to be nervous here. Nelson Nash was a friend and he needed her help with studies. Who was she to deny him the brilliance of her incredibly knowledgeable and epic brain? A smile softly made it across her lips. That was it. Normal. She pulled open the door and spoke, "Hey. You're on time."

"Sorry," he answered as she giggled. Nelson looked at her with an upraised brow, still wearing his jacket, but in a pair of jeans and matching green t-shirt and gym shoes. "What's up Gibby?" he asked once she let him inside the apartment, holding out his arms for a hug.

Gibson obliged his affection before straightening her shirt yet again and pointed him towards the couch. "Yeah well, come on. Did you bring your book?"

"Yeah," Nelson stated, eyes fixed on their study area in awe. She had a ton of supplies neatly placed on the table: a textbook of her own for the class, a calculator, books on means of shipping, the history of logistics…anything they could possibly need. Nelson tossed his belongings on the floor in front of the couch. He looked around the apartment and nodded in approval. Simple, yet individualistic. Totally her style. He knew about her sister being a flight attendant and never being home. Nash figured Max would have the most say in the household interior since she was there far more often that the elder sibling. "Nice crib," he complimented kicking off his shoes and settling down on the couch. "You're prepared," nodding in the direction of the study materials.

Max shrugged. "If we're going to do this, shouldn't we do it right? Besides, with all this information we'll be able to get you understanding everything."

"You're the boss."

Gibson rolled her eyes with a grin as she slipped onto the floor, noting that despite their banter Nelson already had his textbook and notepad out, brows furrowed in a mixture of overwhelming confusion and determination. He looked like a child being forced to do chores only to be treated to ice cream afterwards for a job well done. Nelson was taking this session pretty serious, surprisingly, and Max could already feel herself actually enjoying the company. It wasn't that often after finding out Terry's secret that she could do normal stuff like this; and needless to say there was a small wave of pleasure that raced through her body. Neither of them had ever thought that something like this could be happening; at least not with Nelson Nash.

"Alright, first," Max began the lesson, "we need to define what Logistics is. If you don't know what something is or what it's meant for, you'll never be able to understand or apply it. So, what's Logistics?"

Nelson scratched his ginger hair and looked over to the left sheepishly. "Ummm…shipping?" The jock didn't think she'd be quizzing him so early into the session: wasn't she supposed to explain the crap first? Nelson knew all the other tutors' approaches didn't work but this whole reverse psychology method of studying Max was initiating was ridiculous!

"Close," Max approved, glad that he got THAT much at least. "But on a slightly deeper scale. It's the planning, execution, and control of the movement and placement of goods and/or people in a system designed to reach or achieve a certain objective." Nash immediately closed the book and fell over, burying his face into a nearby pillow in exhaustion. They hadn't even been doing this for a full minute and already he was at his wits end. Well, he supposed he had had a good run with the athletics department. So long sanity. Yet Max was not to be deterred; and would not let him be either. Gibson shook his shoulders, forcing his gaze onto hers. "C'mon Nash! It's not that tough."

"You're a freak genius. Of course it's not for you. I'll never get this."

"All you have to do is apply what you know to real life situations that you're a part of. Through relation comes ultimate understanding."

"There's no way Logistics applies to me in any way Gibby. Or anyone else for that matter," Nelson disputes.

Max raises a brow with a look of disbelief. "You can't believe that. It's like you said. Logistics is like shipping. It's basically coming up with a plan to ship something from place to place. Everybody at some point uses it in some manner of their life in something that they do. From something as simple as driving detours to your job, to the Postal Office – to things as drastic as dropping troops on foreign soil for a mission or set up operations."

Nelson sat up and lowered his eyes in thought. "You mean, it's not just something big corporations use or whatever?"

"No," Max answers with a smile. "It's a little farfetched, but for you I think this would be an example to help you comprehend it a little better: think of Logistics as a football game. It's a strategy, a game plan, to get the ball from centerfield to your scoring end zone while avoiding certain problematic circumstances in your way: such as the opposing team."

Nash's eyes widen a bit excitedly as he nods his head. Now sports he could relate to! Could this feeling possibly be comprehension? "That's the planning part!"

"And the execution?" Gibson toyed with a devious smirk, twirling a pen between her fingertips.

"The actual game play. Trusting someone to play out the strategy in making sure the ball gets where it needs to go!"

"And the objective or goal that's surrounding the plan?"

"Getting points! A touchdown! CHAMPIONSHIP TITLE!" Nelson cried out with exuberance as he chucked the pillow into the wall on the other side of the living room and faking a crowds' cheer causing the tutor to chuckle before he fell back in relief. "That shit actually makes sense. Gibby you're shway…sooooo shway."

"I'm aware," Max jokes. "But come on, we got more to cover between now and the Logistics final next week," she adds as she's able to finally redirect him back to the task at hand. He was excited and had to be thrown back on track ASAP while the new revelation was still fresh in his brain.

But the jock was doing a great job, understanding everything with the way Max taught him. She would use examples from the textbook but then re-explain it and shift the examples in ways that were applicable to Nash's life. Just like she said: Through relation came understanding. And understood it, he did. The time they spent there in the living room was more than just a simple study session – it was fun and entertaining. It was like they were in their own little world – away from the outside troubles that once kept the two of them weighed down. Nelson's eyes flickered over the Max as she leaned forward and pointed to a problem on the sheet of paper in front of them and he couldn't help but think how beautiful she was. Her fitting black t-shit clung to her frame nicely, tapering about a pair of dark blue jean shorts she was wearing. He'd never realized how shaped and toned she was until now so close to her. Her thighs, calves, legs…went on for miles. How badly he wanted to trail his fingers over that skin. Her fuzzy black socks were somehow adorable too. The scent that wafted from her was clean and almost bubbly. It lingered in his nose and he could taste it, sweet and refreshing like honey and roses. "Hey," he said finally after she'd come back from a potty break. "Sorry you had to cancel your date with McGinnis the Menace yesterday for nothing."

Max looked him over, sitting down only once she could tell he was being sincere with the apology. "Nah, you kinda saved me. Turned out he forgot and turned me down all at once. I don't know why I was expecting anything different out of him. He's a great friend when you're in trouble, but not reliable with just the everyday stuff." Max stretched, her stomach growling in such a manner that she blushed. Somehow she'd forgotten all about that. "You hungry? I know a place that delivers." Her hands were already on the phone.

Nelson reached into his pocket and pulled out some credits with a grin. "Sure. I'm buying."

Gibson raised a brow, halting her dialing. "You sure about that? I haven't eaten since this morning and I intend on ordering something…heavy." She had wound up eating all the pizza from the VRROOM last night in a display of "pissedosity" as she called it. Her stomach had been a little upset during the night so to be safe the girl decided to skip the meals today. She usually had an iron belly but figured it would be best to play it safe. Right now, however, her insides were demanding sustenance.

"If I can order pizzas for the entire team, the two of us won't be anything. I get an allowance for a reason. My old man says payouts and favors earn success. He doesn't mind throwing me a few extra hundred credits a month if it can make me friends."

"Sounds pretty shallow and stupid to me," Max added whilst fishing for a menu under the table, causing Nelson to frown and hold his money down a little lower. "Buying happiness doesn't BUY happiness – it provides temporary boosts of self-esteem in the short run, nothing in long run. You're not setting yourself up for success; you're letting people use you. You become this easy toy that everybody can use and throw away whenever they want. Nobody respects something that everyone has free access too."

"You calling me a slut, Gibson?" Nelson bristles. Sure he's had his share of cheerleader ass but the boy had some restrictions.

"I'm SAYING," Max corrects, "Nobody cares about you if you flaunt what you have." She pulls out the menu from under the table and looks it over to ensure what she wanted before placing the call.

"You wouldn't understand," Nash states, frowning at her and shoving his credits back in his pocket.

"Not understand what it's like to have the majority of the people around me relying on what I can offer to make them better, instead of people who actually care? Naah not at all," Gibby answers back with a tone laced heavily in sarcasm. "I'm just a geek people pretend to like so I can do their homework for them, or give them answers on tests or whatever. I wasn't asking you to buy anything. Ya know why? Because I took those people's greed and turned it into a business." She pulled out her own wad of credits with a cocky smile. "I get paid for what I do. I don't need your money. I got my own. Now…what do you want?" Nelson smiled in spite of himself.

They had managed to complete all their studying by the time the food arrived and Max invited Nelson to stay to eat. He slid down beside her while she remained on the floor; in truth he was pretty flustered now that they really didn't have anything left to do. Nothing to keep them busy or distract them. Their glasses of fizz chilled in ice as Max placed a pillow on the edge of the low table and propped and crossed both legs on top of it comfortably.. Chilli cheese fries and a cheddar bacon and fried chicken breast sandwich for her; a large pizza for Nash – hamburger with stuffed crust. They laughed amongst one another; it felt so light and carefree and natural that they couldn't help glancing at one another frequently throughout the evening. It was almost so adorable the way Nelson would just stop talking and peer into her very soul that Max began to feel a bit self-conscious. Maybe she should have dressed up? Or wore some other kind of perfume? But Nelson didn't seem to care, and in the spare time they talked about any and everything: classes they hated, classes they loved; friends, enemies…

But not about their families. Neither wanted to bring up a topic that could make things uncomfortable and ruin this perfect atmosphere right now. By the time the food was gone both of them were too happy to even think about saying goodbye. But life had to regain its flow: even if it was a shitty flow. Nelson's phone rang and the caller ID showed it to be his mother. Great. "I've got to go," the ginger sports captain stated with a sigh.

"Okay," Max tried to hide her disappointment as they stood and headed for the door, Nelson's extra pizza in the box in hand, his textbook and notes in the backpack across his shoulder. Max ordered him to study the notes every day.

"Thanks again for everything, Max. Really."

"You don't have to thank me. It's what friends are for, right?" He didn't answer her. He just wrapped an arm about her waist and pulled the girl deep into his chest, his lips brushing her forehead lightly. What was this? What was this sudden soft heat oozing through her body? Max couldn't resist holding him back as her arms reached under his jacket and felt the muscle and lean and warmth of his toned body beneath his shirt. She felt so close to him somehow like this. Like she was penetrating a barrier that had for so long been invisibly keeping them separated from one another. How could she have gone this long without this feeling in her life? Max didn't think she would want it to ever go away.

Nelson sighed and pulled away carefully, ruffling his fingers through her pink faux hawk like styled hair. He had to detach now. If he didn't the jock would either wind up doing something that would make their remaining sessions uncomfortable if not cancelled…or he'd wind up succumbing to his sexual desires and end up ruining their relationship…a relationship that was suddenly starting to bloom yet again. "I'll see you at school?"

"Yeah. We'll come up with another date then, okay?" Date? DATE?! She should have corrected herself and called it a study date or session or class or something. And even now the girl still couldn't find the sense to rephrase the terminology. Oh God!

"Definitely. Bye Max."

"Later." After watching him off into the elevator Max closed her front door and ran her fingers through her pink hair with a soft gasp while her other palm rested on the female's chest. The heart beneath the brown skin was going wild…and so was her mind: racing with emotions and thoughts…thoughts Gibson was starting to like.

* * *

The days passed into the week, and every night Nelson and Max were together at her apartment studying. At the beginning of each session she would make him take a test going over the lesson from the previous night, grade it, and then begin a new segment to the tutoring class. With each day Nelson's average rose. He had managed to successfully come up from an "F" to a "C+" average. Max figured that by the time the final came along, Nelson should be at a "C"…she was giving him just enough to be able to pass and retain the information easily for the future.

They grew closer: began to learn things about one another, began to share things. The level of trust between them had exploded within a few measly hours; and they craved for more. It wasn't just the two teens who noticed the sparks. The walks down the halls together, the lunches alone, the waiting for each other every morning to socialize before class started...there were signs of a connection, signs of a possible hook up; everyone knew it, everyone was talking about it: but everyone was not happy about it…particularly Nelson Nash's clique. They saw Nash's relationship with the sexy geek girl as an intrusion – but would not deal with it. Not yet at least. Right now Maxine Gibson was the only chance Nelson had of ever being able to play again – to lead his team and school into victory. They would allow her existence in his life for the time being…but once Nash was in the clear…Things would get real…

"Hey, Max?" came the soft exotic voice behind her. The clanging of metal in the girl's locker room resounded, mingled with feminine laughter as the girls were abuzz with details of recent scandals and hopes and wishes. Petty gossip. It was never really anything that was worth paying much attention to.

Max turns in mid shirt removal, almost gasping at the form of Dana Tan standing there with her hands behind her back. The blue laced bra and thong shimmered in a glamorous lure that made Gibson feel ashamed of her own undergarments. Max had to admit: Dana was hot. "D-Dana?" the brown beauty questioned back, more shock than anything else. She couldn't believe that Tan was actually talking to her despite the argument they'd gotten into a few days ago. Max had been sure her female best friend probably hated her – or at least should have.

Dana's brows arch up in sorrow as she reaches and pushes a strand of her raven black hair behind her ear. "Max, look…I'm sorry, about the other day. I was a bitch."

"Dana no! It was me. I was out of line," Max corrected, throwing her t-shirt in the locker and stepped forward in her black bra.

"I guess," Tan says, holding Max's hand, "I was just feeling…insecure about me and Terry's relationship. He's secrets are becoming more of a handful and I guess I was just jealous that you always seemed to know more than I did. It was totally wrong of me to point fingers and accuse you of anything. God I'm such a dreg! Max you're my best friend. And I've got to be honest: life sucks without you in it!"

"I am pretty awesome, aren't I?" Max agrees in a soft coo before both females look at one another and laugh. "I'm sorry too. I don't want to jeopardize our relationship because of whatever problems I may have with McGinnis. I totally understand you wanting us to have some time apart."

With this however, Dana raises a brow in confusion. "Max, I never wanted you guys to be apart from each other…"

Max cocks her head to the side, preparing to speak when she immediately clamps her mouth shut. So it wasn't Dana that said they needed space: It was Terrence himself. Well…Max never thought the idiotic Bat had the balls to force himself away from her. Some friendship. Oh well, it didn't really matter anymore anyway. Terry wanted distance, and distance was what Maxine successfully gave him; someone else taking up her time. There's a call from the outside doors for the girls to move it on out to the field – groans and complaints trailing not far behind the order. Max and Dana quickly finished dressing (Dana going braless in a giant T-Shirt that more than likely belonged to her boyfriend and shorts; Max in burgundy sweatpants and a sleeveless matching crop top) and jogged onto the field, lining up horizontally…and directly across the field, coming out to meet them at the center, was the boys gym class…McGinnis and Nelson in tow.

"Alright boys and girls, listen up!" yelled the coach – a middle aged but gruff looking man, like he was bitter about something so coped by taking his frustrations out on Hill High Students. "You guys are in luck. No suicides, no laps, no fitness exam…just good ole Dodgeball." His announcement was met with a mixture of hoorahs and groans. "Boys against girls." He laid out a row of multiple red balls and took a step back before blowing the whistle. Immediately the gym classes was thrown into a whirlwind as teens raced for the center line to grab their weapons and begin the assault. Red rubber balls flew through the air as screams of terror and enjoyment followed suit. The boys were hype, and ready of course. The girls, far too prissy and self-conscious about losing an eyelash, willingly took the balls and jogged off for the bleachers to continue any early gossip that had been left dangling in the air. The coach didn't give two rabbit balls about it either way.

Max was competitive however by nature, and despite her brains, was one of the better female athletes in the class. She was fast: she had precision. Boy after boy fell under the power of her aim; even Terry had to admit she was good. Not good enough to take part in his career of vigilantism – but good nonetheless. Nelson whistled, cheering her on with each hit she made, the two of them eyeing each other throughout the game.

Terry could feel the scowl on his face beginning to burn dangerously as the Neo-Batman watched the two of them exchange their banter and play. What was this? Why was Max suddenly getting so cozy with Nelson Nash: the asshole of their school? She usually relished his type. And just what in Barda's muscles did Nash think he was doing? He was gliding closer to Max, knocking down her walls of common sense so easily that McGinnis was a mixture of shocked and pissed by it. Max had never been this easy to impress much less woo. A friendship such as theirs was surely forbidden amongst the remaining popular crowd and Terry knew that no good would come from this; so why couldn't Gibson?

Terry looked on as Max aimed and threw, the ball whizzing by Nelson's side. She declared giddily that she'd hit him – Nash boisterously contradicting as the jock approached. They argued back and forth about the stupid topic of whether or not Nash was out of the game and Terry's icy eyes glared. Max placed her hands on her hips comfortably, sexily, looking Nelson directly in the eye – she'd never looked that comfortable before, not with McGinnis recently that is. And the way Nelson just eased his frame so close to hers lustfully without any kind of retribution made McGinnis, and the monitoring cheerleaders, cringe.

Knowing that he couldn't out-argue Maxine, Nelson merely put the conversation to an end by scooping the brainiac into his arms as he threw her over his shoulder and began jogging around with the girl in tow as she punched him in play. Between the annoying laughter and false fighting the two finally collapsed on the ground in a flurry of chuckles.

By the time the dirt and their bodies had settled Nelson was laying on top of Max – their laughter eventually drifting away to a strange glance that kept them locked in each other's arms. Nelson asked softly, "Are you okay?" The feeling of his body pressed against hers – of her arms loosely entangled round about him in a hold that could have meant his imprisonment to the female for an eternity – made the jock's head swirl. He could hear the gaspy fan girly whispers of the others that were about them, but could care less.

"Just shway," was Max's response as she felt his gaze intensify and face grow nearer to hers. But Max didn't shun away. She didn't freak out or kick him in the balls…could this be-?

Having finally had enough Terry chucked his dodgeball as hard as the teen could as it struck Nelson hard on the head, causing the jock to raise off the geek vigorously with a growl of anger – facing McGinnnis who was giving him a dirty look – before pulling Max to her feet as well while she looked suddenly flustered in reflection of the circumstance they'd just been in. "Back off Nash," was the warning McGinnis's stare was trying to convey: and it _almost_ made the jock feel…concerned...Almost. Nelson turned in the direction of his "friends"…and now he really felt concerned. Somehow it was obvious that they, that everyone, knew: this wasn't friendship…this was something more.

And he worried about what they thought; what they knew…what could happen as a result.

* * *

"Hey Max?" Nelson asked on Thursday night – the night before the exam.

"Hmmmm?" answered Gibson who never looked up from the textbook in front of her.

"What are you going to do after you graduate?" Nelson asked, gaining the immediate attention of his tutor. "I mean, what's your dream? Do you even have one at this age?"

Max raised an eyebrow and then put her pen down on the table before climbing up on the couch and sitting down beside him. She didn't know where this suddenly came from, but she knew that Nelson needed her to be serious with him right at this moment; and she would oblige. "Failing logistics can't stop you from being whoever you want to be, Nash. You know that right?" Nelson nodded and Maxine sighed, "Everyone has a dream. I think the question is have we discovered it yet?"

"Have you?" Nelson asked, prying in an almost urgent like manner. She looked away from him. Where was this coming from?

Max's brows lowered briefly as she thought about it. "I don't know. When I was a kid I thought I knew everything I wanted: but I learned that it was only what my parents thought was good for me – what they expected of me. They made me believe that becoming a doctor, or lawyer, was my ultimate goal in life. But it wasn't. It wasn't what I wanted. Even my parents used me." She raised a leg to her chest and sighed.

"What about now?"

"Now…now I think I may have a grasp on it. I want…to work in law enforcement." She could practically feel Nelson's look of shock jabbing at her through every part of her body. "I want to help people. To help them feel safe. To help them feel like there is someone out there watching over them; to not live in fear or under anyone else's control."

"Isnt that Batman's job?"

Max scoffed, rolling her eyes at him annoyingly. "It's the small foxes that spoil the vine, Nash." Nelson raised a brow at her and Max huffed. Of course she didn't expect him to understand what that meant. "Sometimes it's the smallest things that you think don't matter that wind up causing the most trouble. Batman can't fix every little problem. He's not alone – or at least he doesn't have to be…But in the end it doesn't matter what he approves of or doesn't," Max adds assuredly with a serious gaze at the window. "Because my life is my choice. If he can choose to save the world his way, why can't I do the same?"

Nelson smirks. Max had asked him what he wanted to do – but in truth he wasn't sure. He had smiled wide and said to become the richest, best sports player in the country, but in some manner he knew that she wasn't impressed by the answer he'd given. It offended him at first, but the jock realized that she was right. For so long he had been doing and saying everything his old man wanted – and he'd began to believe it after a while. Nash hated the old man for that. He had actually started to think his father's wishes were his own…until Max. It was in her company the jock knew that he was a nobody – and it was for her that he wanted to change that.

* * *

The bell for final period rang. Nelson had just barely logged off the school website when he zoomed out of the chair and raced down the hall, swerving through the filing out bodies to avoid an injury. Nothing else mattered right now; all he was focused on was finding her. His jacket began to slip some off the teen's wide shoulders at the force of speed Nelson was accomplishing – gym sneakers hardly keeping a stable amount of traction to keep the captain vertical. Multiple times he would slip and keel frontward, only to grip his fingertips on the ground and propel himself forward even more.

Heart pounding, muscles aching – he had to find her – the smile on his lips was astonishing so to the point that every team mate or cheer skirt he'd passed found themselves gawking in total disbelief. His irises spotted her ahead, walking calmly out of a classroom with Dana Tan as she clutched her textbooks to her chest. Nelson swallowed. It would be a shame that the books would have to suffer. "MAX!"

She turned to look in his direction, confused at first, and the confusion immediately replaced with shocked horror as Max tried to take a step back to no avail. Nash's arms was around her much too soon as their bodies slammed together. Her books splayed upon the floor as Gibby gave a gasp of pain at the force of their collision, all the while Nelson's grasp squeezing her tight. Max blushed at the sensation of his thrumming heart pulsating through the boy's chest against her own. His hands gripped her lower waist, pulling the girl deeper into his flesh as Max's fingertips stitched into the athlete's jacket. When Nelson finally pulled away he brushed his lips against the genius's check so lightly it was almost like it never even happened. "I did it!"

"Wh-What?!" Max gasped, blinking several times.

"I passed it! The test!" Nelson exclaimed louder, taking her hands into his own palms and pulling the girl into another hug. "I got a B-."

Max lit up then and hugged her pupil back cheerily. "I'm so happy! I knew you could do it."

"You're like a lifesaver Max. I want you to come to my game tomorrow night. Okay?"

"O-okay," Max answered once the boy finally released her. He winked and walked off with his comrades, linking arms with his praising on again, off again girlfriend – frowning only when Blade gave her a strange look…Unwanted. They didn't want her to be there.

"Well," stated Dana with a smirk once the group had disappeared. "This ought to be fun."

Max pushed back a loose strand of her pink bang and stammered with a smile, "I-it's just a game, Dan."

"I'm talking about what comes after the game. A date." Dana giggled at Max's look of bafflement as the Asian beauty winked. "You can say you're just friends all you want girlfriend – but one of you obviously wants to be more. Maybe the other one of you two needs to stop hiding the way she feels too." Max opened her mouth to object but when she found she couldn't, Dana smiled seductively – grabbing the teen's arm and dragging her outside. The look of determination in her slanted eyes was enough to make Gibson shiver in pure terror. Dana had her mind set up to help out Max with this date as much as possible, whether Max wanted it or not. And if there was one thing Dana knew it was making an impression. It was time…for shopping.

* * *

Nash looked at the scoreboard. They were in the final quarter with less than a minute to go and Hill High was behind the competition by two points. He shifted a gaze over to a teammate with the puck tucked protectively within the crosse shaped hands of his sport suit. Although it was considered Lacrosse the hockey elements were all too noticeable. A sport where the crosse sticks were implemented into the actual suit – long and damaging – and adrenaline pumped teens flew across a zero gravity arena was much more satisfying than the old school version. At zero gravity anything could happen. Nash growled as the opposing team's captain made a dash forward for his man; he ripped out of stall, flying on powerful legs and smashing a shoulder into the enemy's rib cage. That was for his asshole father.

"Burke! Toss it!" Nelson commanded. Immediately the order was carried out as Burke launched the puck straight into Nash's crosse – and he made a bee line for the goal. Ten seconds. The crowd was out of their seats, screaming loudly in defiance and praise. Somewhere he thought he'd seen a flurry of pink. Five seconds. The goalie swayed from right to left, trying to anticipate and prepare himself for whichever direction Nelson was going to take. Four. Nash thrust his hand back. Three. He was in mid throw and the goalie lunged. Two. But the puck never left the crosse! He faked it! And the goalie had realized the truth all too late. One. Nelson chucked the puck for the open sensors and it whizzed past, the sensor releasing a buzzing sound of flash of light to indicate the score. BLAAAAAARE!

The Hill High team rushed towards their captain, throwing their arms about him and cheering in victory as the stands erupted in chaos. Hamilton Hill High was going to the state Championship! Everything they had diligently worked so hard for had led up to this blissful moment. Nash beamed proudly feeling the camaraderie of his fellow sportsmen even if it would never last beyond this rink. But now there was something else of great importance to him. Off behind the crowd, standing up on the bleachers and giving him a wave of her arm was none other than Maxine Gibson herself. He didn't think she'd even bother showing up so the fact that the girl did made him feel all mushy on the inside. Chelsea and Dana were on each side of her, Terry on the phone and dipping out like the creep he was. Stupid job. But none of that mattered. She was smiling, exuberant from what Nelson could tell – and that was the best part.

The team filed noisily into their locker room and changed, Nelson accomplishing that much faster than the rest and dashing out of the doors into the school hallways and finally outside. The night was perfect, warm, comforting. Numerous random teens congratulated him – sucking up – but he ignored them. A curvy brown figure was standing beside his car waiting and he smiled as the boy got closer to see what she was wearing: a hunter's green mid-thigh high jersey dress with a golden collar and outlined golden short sleeves and dark green high top gym shoes. Large green feathered earrings dangled from each ear as Max rubbed against the back of neck nervously. Her faux hawk swayed softly in the wind and Nelson could feel his skin burning for her touch the closer he approached. She looked hot…

"You came!" somehow his voice came out a little more pleased than originally intended but she didn't seem to mind – in fact she looked happy that he was so glad to see her.

Max slouched her hips to the left and raised her right foot, placing it firmly against his car for support while the girl's arms folded across her chest. Somehow the future oracle knew that he wouldn't mind. Nelson wasn't that difficult to figure out about some things…his car was one of them. "I figured it would be interesting to watch. I've never seen a lacrosse game before. Used to think it was for prissy mamas boys who needed a towel boy to fetch lemonade in the middle of the game."

"What do you think now?" Nelson asked deviously.

Max smirked, her lashes hanging low over her eyes in a mysteriously attractive glint, cocky and sexy even. "I think you make it pretty hardcore. I kinda like hardcore."

They both looked at each other with satisfaction just as the rest of the team sauntered over – looking less jubilant with their victory and more annoyed than anything else. "Hey Nash," Anderson said. "Good game."

"Great game!" Nelson corrected. "We're going to state boys!" Max remained silent, almost becoming invisible as the guys continued their jock talk for some time. Things like this she didn't know much about, at least not openly with others around. No one seemed to notice her, and the girl began to consider just leaving altogether when Nelson turned back to her and lit up like the sun. "All thanks to this girl here, I get to play. I owe her everything."

Blade looked at Max with a strange expression, wearing an obviously fake smile. "Hardly everything. But I guess Gibby did help you get this far. We owe her something." Max raised a brow at the popularity queen and frowned. The two girls usually got along well but ever since she'd began hanging out with Nelson things between them had gotten completely uncomfortable – threatening. "Nice dress Max. I didn't peg you for the type."

"Guess you don't know me all that well, do you Blade?"

"Apparently."

Nelson put his arm around Max's shoulder. "Hey, why don't you come with us to celebrate Max? There's this really shway sports pub in downtown Gotham. Come with us." His entire countenance pleaded with her and Max somehow knew she wouldn't be able to say no. A mere nod of the head and a few seconds later they were in his car taking off for the freeway. Chelsea and Dana had slid into the back seat, Terry gone performing his holy Batman duties. The entire drive the girls chattered about how cool the game was, the slutty cheerleaders for the other team, how hot the opponents were (which made Nelson gag). The street lights whizzed by in an intoxicating lure and Max baffled at how much fun she was having. She'd always spent all her time taking care of Terry, studying, burning off steam in the VRROOM; but she'd hardly ever spent time with other people her age, doing things teenagers do…Max talked about living like a rebel: but in her own truth, in what others could not see, she was living her own life sheltered from the rest of the world.

The train of cars pulled up into the pub and the teens flooded out and poured into the small building – shouting about their victory. The pub's owners were Hill High alumni, and in joy of hearing the championship news decided it was only appropriate to break the law and serve everybody alcohol. Max wasn't too bothered by it. She'd had beers before, and always limited herself to one bottle. She didn't want to destroy her precious brain cells – they'd grant her freedom one day. Chelsea was naturally a heavy drinker, and was passed out in a booth within a couple hours. Dana left eventually – picked up by her boyfriend who didn't say the slightest word to Max. Dana gave them a look and sighed, knowing how stubborn both could be, even when they didn't want to be.

But Gibson didn't worry about anything. She drank a couple beers and loosened up a bit, and after a little time some of the jocks warmed up to her. Guys had always been better with the girl than other females. The drinks kept coming and the music kept blasting as the kids danced and partied through the late portions of the night – and all night Nelson was by Max's side. They shared a booth, Max closest to the wall and Nash right beside her. His arm laced about her shoulder as he whispered some things in her ears, pointing to teammates and making the young genius laugh multiple times through the night. He was so gentle with her, compassionate, caring. Sometimes Max would raise her hand to fix her hair, and Nelson would take his fingers over her shoulder and touch at her hand, lightly intertwining their fingers together for a few brief seconds. He did this throughout the night, sometimes even pressing his head against hers as if longing to tilt down a few inches and kiss her, he never did of course, which sometimes had Gibson feeling a mixture of relief and disappointment. What was she getting herself into? It was obvious in the way he talked about her to his friends that she was his savior in so many ways. "I love this girl," he would say over and over again. Eventually every time Nelson ended a rant about her the guys would chime in, "We know: you love that girl."

It was an evening unlike any other, real, genuine. Even the assholes were far more shway than Max thought. Eventually however the fun had to have its limits. The owner's stopped the alcohol and the teens stumbled out to their cars – the most sober of the group taking the keys and leading everybody home. Chelsea grumbled unintelligibly some things as Nash laid her out on the backseat of his ride and drove them back to Max's place. The clock on the dashboard read 1:47a.m.

When they reached the towering apartment building Gibson lifted Chelsea, strung her arms over her shoulders with Nelson's help and they went inside and boarded the elevator. The teens chuckled amongst one another, their laughter growing more bold every time they glanced in each other's direction. Nelson bit his lip every now and then; Max rolled her eyes.

The door opened…and Max's smile turned into a frown quicker than the tortoise beat the hare. Standing in the opening of the elevator doors was a woman tall, slim, brown. Her eyes were black as night – her shoulder length thick hair like that of tar as it bounced with her frustration. Her fingers tapped against her folded arms and her perfect beauty was enough to make Max want to just jump out of the nearest window. Her eyes dashed from Max, to Nash, to the passed out Chelsea between their arms and judged...hard. "What do you think you're doing?!"And just like that, a perfect evening had been ruined.

Max's frown deepened. "Shandra…"

"We both know my name, Max! What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

Nelson raised up with a scowl. "Hold up, who do you think you are? You must be twipped if you think you-," but his threat is cut off by the hand of Max on his shoulder, though her eyes never left the woman's.

"Nelson, thanks for helping me with Chels, but you'd better go."

"But she-," the jock began to intercept.

"Is my sister," Max finished. Shit just got real…

_To Be Continued…_


End file.
